


Touch

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 08:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20355067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: While the Beatles are out at a restaurant, Ringo's hand finds it way on top of George's leg - and George isn't quite sure how to deal with it.





	Touch

He was doing it again.

There they were, eating dinner as a group, and George could barely focus on his food. _George_. But how was he supposed to eat while Ringo was sitting next to him in the booth with his hand _there_, on George’s thigh?

Well, not quite _on_ it, but resting against the side of it, and that was enough to get George’s mind and heart racing. He wasn’t even sure Ringo knew he was doing it. Then again, this wasn’t the first time that Ringo’s hand had found its way to George. Recently, it seemed that Ringo had been particularly comfortable around George, always standing and sitting right up next to him, leaning against him, or, in this case—

_Oh god, he’s moving his thumb_.

George tried to keep his face as emotionless as possible, but the way Ringo’s thumb slid back and forth against his leg was _very_ distracting. At least it answered one of George’s questions: there was no way that Ringo was doing this on accident. Of course, that realization raised several more questions that George wasn’t prepared to think about while surrounded by so many people.

Speaking of…

“George,” John began, giving him a strange look, “are you alright—”

“Yes,” George snapped.

“Are you sure?” Ringo asked, placing his hand completely on George’s thigh. “You seem…” he squeezed his leg, “…tense.”

_Oh god_.

With the way that George instinctively bit his lip, there was no way that the others would believe his flimsy excuses anymore. So, he excused himself to the bathroom and tried to talk himself out of abandoning the restaurant completely. But _what the hell was Ringo trying to do to him?_ He had no business being so touchy-feely with those rough, strong fingers of his—

“Damn it,” George muttered to himself as he watched his blush deepen in the mirror. He tried to be mad at Ringo for doing this to him, but he couldn’t deny how good it had felt. It felt nice—felt right—just…not when it was so out of the blue, and _certainly_ not when they were in public.

Sighing, he turned on the sink and splashed some cool water on his face. He just needed to calm down, relax a bit. Take his mind off Ringo’s hand gently stroking his leg—take his mind _off_ it, not _on_, damn it.

“George?”

“_Ah!_” George gasped, jerking his hands down in shock and sloshing water all over his face and shirt. Blinking the water from his eyes, he turned around to see Ringo staring at him in a mix of concern and confusion. “Shit,” George said, trying to wipe the water from his face with his hands. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Ringo laughed. “It’s no big deal,” he said as he grabbed a paper towel. He approached George and put one hand on the back of his head as he dried his face with the towel.

“W-what are you doing?” George asked, backing away. This was too much.

“Sorry, did that hurt?” Ringo asked, running his hand through George’s hair.

George could feel the effects of the cold water wearing off as his face heated up again. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doin’ what?”

“_This_,” George said, grabbing Ringo’s wrist and pulling his hand out of his hair.

Ringo frowned. “You seemed stressed—I was just tryin’ to help.”

“And you think…touching me all over is supposed to help?” George said, raising his voice.

At those words, Ringo’s eyes widened. “I—you—”

“You’ve been doing this all week, _Ringo_, now just _tell_ me, what the hell is going on?” George felt bad for snapping at him, but he needed answers.

“I,” Ringo sputtered, looking down. “I’m sorry. I thought you liked it, too—I just thought—the way you look at me—and then you didn’t stop me—I thought you felt the same—so I kept—I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

“What—don’t go,” George said, stopping Ringo in his tracks. George’s mind was reeling from trying to make sense of what Ringo had said—or, rather, had _tried_ to say. “Ritchie, what is it?” he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Without lifting his eyes from the ground, Ringo took a deep breath. “I like you, George—a lot. But I…I shouldn’t’ve just assumed you felt the same. Sorry.”

“…I like you, too.”

Ringo’s head shot up. “You do?”

“I do,” George said, smiling. “But what exactly was your plan here? To start up a relationship without me even knowing? I hate to break it to you, but that’s not how it works,” George laughed.

Now it was Ringo’s turn to blush. “I thought it might work.”

George laughed harder and wrapped his arms around Ringo. “You’re a silly, silly man, Ritchie.”

“Sorry,” Ringo muttered into George’s shoulder as he returned the hug.

“It’s alright,” George said, leaning down to press a kiss against his cheek. “I like that about you.”

After a little more talking (and maybe a little more touching), they made their way back to the table, where John and Paul were finishing their food.

“Your food’s getting cold,” Paul said as they slid back into the booth. “What took you so long?”

“Yes, what were you doing in there?” John asked, resting his chin on his hands and smirking.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ringo said before sipping his drink and waggling his eyebrows.

George hoped that John and Paul would laugh that off without reading into it—where was all of Ringo’s directness earlier when it would have actually been useful? Luckily, his wish came true, and the other two resumed eating and talking as usual.

Before he could start eating again, George felt a familiar tap against his leg. Smiling, he reached down to grab Ringo’s hand properly. George couldn’t remember why he had been so frustrated with this earlier—they should have been doing this a long time ago.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was loosely inspired by a [post from @starrisoneternal](https://starrisoneternal.tumblr.com/post/187174762977/wheres-ringos-other-hand-though) on tumblr (although I may have taken a slightly tamer interpretation of the post than what they were going for, hehe).


End file.
